


Woke Up In Japan (1:27 AM)

by kyungsco



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Crack Relationships, M/M, PWP, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 04:25:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15987569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyungsco/pseuds/kyungsco
Summary: It's that time of the year again—yes, it's another trip to Osaka for SMTown, and this time, Kun and Johnny are sharing a hotel room.  Which shouldn't be too bad, if only Kun doesn't secretly want to suck his roommate's dick.





	Woke Up In Japan (1:27 AM)

**Author's Note:**

> Before you say anything, it's important you know two things:  
> First, this was not my idea (it wasn't twt user cafeyuwin's aka my-dear-Brianna-whom-I-dedicate-this-to either, no, OF COURSE NOT). Second, even if it was my idea, I wrote this until 3 AM, so it's highly possible that a demon took control of my senses and poured evil onto this Word document.
> 
> Anyway, just some good ol' rare ship and heavy smut. Hope you enjoy ^^

**A** hand softly lands on Kun’s shoulder, and he could've sworn his soul left his body, and _for real_ , this time.

 

"Hey," he hears Johnny say, although he's certain it registered seconds too late, because now Johnny's looking at him in concern. "You alright?"

  
"Y-yeah," he manages though his throat has gone dry, and the knot in his stomach has tightened along with Johnny's grip on his shoulder, who seems unconvinced by his answer. So then he smiles, because hey, who wouldn't be satisfied with a good, old Qian Kun smile?

  
He must've been right because then Johnny smiles back, _but holy shit that smile_ , and he lets go of Kun's shoulder after giving him a few pats, and perhaps a few skips of heartbeat. He is to release a breath of relief, but the older turns back around and he's frozen again, fingers responsive to curl around the SHEETS. Kun thinks Johnny sees this, but maybe he ignores it because he's just nice that way, instead offering what he considers an apologetic smile.

 

"You like me, right?  So like, I mean, us being roommates isn’t like, too weird?”

  
It takes one look into those chocolate brown irises for Kun to stutter out a quick "O-of course h-hyung," though he doesn't really have to _look_ because he's basically a fool for Johnny Seo.

  
While Kun's response is a positive one, he's only able to catch a slight upturn of Johnny's lips before he's immediately turning away again, almost as if he’s avoiding the younger. Kun feels his heart drop to his stomach.

 

"So-uh, where do you want me to–to put the snacks? I-is–is the bedside drawer like, fine, or..."

  
At this point, Johnny seems to have gotten distracted, mumbling to himself similarly random sentences Kun cannot make out, so he gives up trying to comprehend.  Instead he looks after the older in confusion as he quickly paced to and fro, straightening bed SHEETS and cleaning up invisible messes, muscular back visible through a shirt that's a little too tight around taut muscles.

 

_Did he say something wrong?_

 

 

 

 

 

Kun isn't certain when The Feelings actually started, because back when he was still a trainee, all he can ever do was gawk and tremble at the sight of his sunbaes. This eventually passed because intimidation can only get you so far—although he cannot deny the fact that he still gets starstruck whenever he passes them in the SM corridors—and because then he realized that he was there for idol training, not for a field trip.

 

(Though, for the record, trainee experience at SM is more than an immersion experience.)

 

Nevertheless, while he’s far too preoccupied with training to the best of his ability, he still had spared a second of the day to look up and remember fellow trainees who were reputable in their craft.  Johnny Seo, who joined the company long before any of NCT did, and trained far harder than anyone Kun knows, is certainly the most commendable rookie he’s ever come across.

 

What used to be mere admiration for his fellow rookie turned into a little crush, because hello, he’s so nice and funny and talented and also _unbearably hot_ , and Kun’s not one to deny himself such truths.

 

Kun never believed in fate, but if it takes a dumb rooming game and a nauseating two-hour flight to Osaka—all _pure coincidence_ , he’s supposed to believe, because life’s just made of coincidences like that—for their paths to cross so closely all of a sudden, then he must be ready to sacrifice his pride just to start putting his faith in the fairytale bullshit that fuels three-year old girls’ pink tutu dreams.

 

So, now they’re roommates.

 

Which should be fine, if only Qian Kun doesn’t kinda, really, _actually_ wants to suck Johnny Seo’s dick.

 

 

 

 

 

“I’ll see you in the morning then, I guess.”

 

Johnny had smiled, giving a (cute) little salute before closing the door behind him.  Kun can still remember the way his hyung’s eyes disappeared into adorable half-moons, before the rest of him disappeared into the hallway, leaving Kun staring blankly at the spot where Johnny used to stand.

 

That was hours ago, a _1:27 AM_ now glowing almost mockingly on Kun’s phone.  And yet, Kun lies awake, eyes occasionally drifting towards the empty doorway as if waiting for something, anything.

 

The latter had offered him dinner in town, telling him that Ten and the others were planning to check out the neighboring shabu-shabus and sushi bars.  Kun had declined, saying he just wanted to sleep, because he was still a little groggy from their flight.  Maybe next time, he had said.

 

(In retrospect, he wants nothing but to hit his head against the wall until he knocks out cold, because he could’ve said, _no, stay. We can order room service and we can cuddle while we wait. I mean. If you’re into that._ Except, he would never have said that, because he’s himself and Qian Kun equals _wimp_ , and everything that’s supposed to happen with him tend to remain as _could haves._ )

 

Have a good evening though, he had added.  But truly, at the mention of the name _Ten_ , all he wanted was to hurl the bedside table lamp at Johnny and make him leave and _NEVER GO BACK HERE AGAIN_ , because with Johnny Seo everything always has something to do with the Thai boy, though it’s not like Kun’s jealous or anything.  They’re just friends anyway, really close ones, at that, closer than Kun and Johnny will ever be.  Just friends fooling around, being _unnecessarily_ touchy, being bros.

 

Because that’s what bros do.  Right?

 

Okay, so _maybe_ he’s a little jealous, but it’s not like he can—or will—do anything; Kun’s far too much of a pussy to admit his Feelings.  Then again, he hasn’t really made up his mind about what to say, if there is even anything that is to be said.  He can’t just be all, _oh, hyung, your ass looks fucking amazing in those jeans.  Do you want to go to the movies with me?_ and everything will be sunshines and rainbows from there.

 

Johnny-hyung’s a nice guy though, Kun convinces himself.  Maybe the rejection will be less painful if his kindness acts as a shield for Kun’s fragile (heart) ego.

 

Kun fails to hear the door swing open and click closed, so when in stumbles a gigantic silhouette, Kun nearly yells and _actually_ hurls the bedside table lamp at the intruder.  He only gets as far as jumping into an offensive stance before Johnny walks into the light, and Kun’s beating heart is calmed.

 

“ _Heyyyyy_ , _Kunnieeeee_ ,” the boy slurs, long legs swinging precariously in what could be an attempt at walking.

 

 

Thick eyebrows furrow, and bare feet hit the carpeted floor. “Johnny-hyung, what are you—are you _drunk_?”

 

“We had funnnn, _Kunnieeee_ ,” Johnny giggles, walking in zigzags and yet somehow managing to close the gap between him and the younger, long arms trapping Kun in a clumsy but tight embrace. “I told you, you should’veeeee—you should’ve come.  It would’ve been funnnnn.  It was _fuuuuuuun_ , Kunnieee.”

 

“S-sure, I—” The rest of Kun’s words are choked back as Johnny further tightens the hug, which is fine, really.

 

Hugs are fine.

 

Kun likes hugs.

 

But if Johnny wouldn’t stop swinging and _rubbing_ them together like some overly-excitable grade schooler, Kun would then have a problem.

 

“J-Johnny-hyung, j-just,” he manages, willing himself not to cry. “Please, I—”

 

“But I like hugging youuuuu, Kunnieee.” Cue intensified ‘embrace’.  Kun makes a strangled sound.

 

“I-I’m tired, can we–c-can we please just–g-go t-to sleep—”

 

“ _Okayyyy,_ ” Johnny giggles, “Okayyyy, Kunnieee.”

 

The older boy plops onto his bed obediently, all arms and legs and Johnny.  Everything’s supposed to be better at that point, except he sort of _forgot_ to let go of Kun, leaving the latter to lay there wide-eyed, trapped in his roommate’s vice-like grip, heart beating miles per minute with his lower region already half-hard.

 

(For the record, it has been a while since he’s been _this_ close to anyone, and to someone he likes, at that.)

 

As if his agony isn’t already enough, Johnny swings a leg over his body and snuggles even closer, virtually providing more friction for Kun’s dick.  He begins to wonder what he did in his past life to suffer such fate.  He quietly prays the older would be too drunk to notice.

 

“ _Heyyyy,_ Kunnie, what’s that?”

 

 _Jesus fucking Christ_.

 

“W-what’s–what’s w-what, hyung?”

 

Seemingly sober all of a sudden, Johnny lifts his head, looking at Kun as if he could see what he was thinking.  The older casts a glance at his crotch, at the painfully obvious tent smack in the middle of his grey sweatpants, then back up at Kun’s face.  Kun swallows.

 

The leg that’s placed just a little under his belly slowly moves to press over his member, and Kun bends forward out of reflex, unable to hold back the moan that escapes his lips.  He falls back onto the mattress, both hands quickly covering his mouth, eyes sporting a look of ultimate horror.

 

_Pleasesayyoudidn’tnoticepleasesayyoudidn’tnoticepleasesayyoudidn’t—_

 

“Kunnie,” Johnny says, but Kun refuses to make eye contact.  The leg presses harder onto his crotch, and Kun’s eyes scrunch closed, silently praying to all known gods for a drop of salvation.

 

Kun feels the mattress dip, and he thinks Johnny must’ve moved away—he wouldn’t blame him if he got freaked out by the incident—so he removes his hands from his face and he opens his eyes, only to choke back a scream when he sees Johnny hovering above him, long legs propping him on either side of Kun’s waist and rendering him weightless.

 

“ _Kunnie_ ,” he says again, voice seemingly octaves lower.

 

“H-hyung, I—”

 

The younger finds himself unable to formulate as much as a sentence because then Johnny lowers himself onto Kun, plump ass meeting clothed dick into a careful but deep grind.  Kun is caught off guard, head tilting backwards and eyes rolling to the back of his head.

 

“ _H-haaa—_ ”

 

Johnny proceeds to swing his ass back, hands fidgeting distractedly and eyes widening curiously at the other’s reaction to his ministrations.  He stops there, sitting on top of Kun’s thighs, but not puttting all of his weight so that he wouldn’t hurt him.

 

“Kunnie,” he coos, one big hand reaching over to trace Kun’s jaw, tilting his chin so that they make eye contact. “You like me, right?”

 

With all the odd seriousness in Johnny’s drunken gaze, Kun cannot help but feel more turned on.  _Fuck, yes_ , he wants to say, because this is the moment he has been waiting for for so long, but instead he goes with, “y-yes, yes of c-course I-I l-like you, h-hyung.”

 

Johnny’s eyes darken, and it must’ve been the way Kun said _hyung_ , because then he’s grinding on Kun again, and _y-yes hyung_ , they’re kissing now, and Johnny’s lips feel so damn soft, and _p-please, please h-hyung_ , he licks into Kun’s mouth and it’s at that point that Kun forgets whose hands and tongue are whose.

 

They only pull away when Johnny moves downwards, pushing up Kun’s shirt to kiss down his chest and stomach, sinfully chaste kisses placed until Kun’s pelvis, at which he pauses, darkened irises practically begging when he says, “is this okay, Kunnie?”

 

Said person is unsure whether Johnny’s purposely driving him insane, what with the hand placed over his clothed member making it hard to say _no_ —though he’s certain he wouldn’t have rejected the older in any other situation—but it’s hard to say anything either, so he quickly nods, head falling back on the pillow when Johnny places a teasing kiss on his waistband.

 

Johnny hurries to get rid of Kun’s pants, wasting no time in tossing it somewhere along with his underwear.  Kun has never felt so naked, but he has no time to think about that because then Johnny’s pretty lips are around his dick, and he thinks he looks even more beautiful like that.  He doesn’t take his eyes away from Kun as he bobs his head up and down, pace so agonizingly slow it’s good.  It takes a lick over Kun’s slit for the younger’s self-control to crumble away, hips he so determinedly held back against the mattress involuntarily bucking into Johnny’s mouth.

 

“ _F-fuck_ , hyung.”

 

While Kun takes a second to return from the dizzying sensation of Johnny’s hot mouth, the latter takes it all in, fighting back his gag reflex and instead moaning around Kun’s dick, the mere thought of the younger’s size and strength enough to provide electrifying pleasure down to his own member.  He moves one hand from Kun’s thigh to unbutton his jeans, but through the pleasure Kun catches this, so he instinctively grabs Johnny’s hair, pulling him off his throbbing dick with a filthy _pop_.

 

For a moment, Johnny’s eyes are glazed over, a look that nearly makes Kun allow him to just finish sucking him off, but he realizes how unfair this must be, him receiving all the attention while the older’s dick doesn’t get enough attention, merely constricting painfully in his too-tight jeans.

 

“Hyung,” Kun stutters, “l-let me.”

 

Blinking repeatedly to collect himself, Johnny gives Kun a small smile, squeezing his thigh before crawling forward and kneeling inches in front of Kun’s face.  Kun’s eyes are wide again, almost innocently so, and his hands are reluctantly removing his hyung’s jeans, a teasing caress on the clothed member effectively causing Johnny’s breath to hitch in his throat.

 

When Johnny’s left naked in all his glory, Kun’s suddenly unsure of what to do, because while he thought Johnny was big, he didn’t know he was _this_ big.  He’s shattered again, resolve fading at the thought of this unbearably beautiful person just baring himself to Kun so unexpectedly.  What’s so special about him anyway?  He’s just plain, old, boring Kun.  Just when exactly did things get so good for him?  And _why_?

 

Johnny whines impatiently, bringing attention back to the situation at hand, at which Kun looks up at his hyung with unsure, almost scared eyes.  While Johnny secretly hopes for a return of the favor, he didn’t want to scare Kun, so instead he takes the younger’s right hand, letting him feel the inside of Johnny’s shirt, toned abdomen hot under Kun’s touch.  He leads it down onto his pelvis and onto his hard-on, moaning at the contact, eyes willed to not close so they maintain eye contact.

 

It’s then that Kun is left to explore unknown territory on his own, fingers carefully fondling with Johnny’s balls before wrapping around his dick.  His ministrations are slow, unsure, and certainly inexperienced, but his calloused hands are enough to send Johnny on edge.  Not wanting to come undone, he unfurls Kun’s hand, pinning it somewhere above his head, and reconnecting their lips in a much-needed kiss, tongues dancing together and causing filthy, smacking sounds to echo around the hotel room.  Bare ass meets hardened dick once more, causing both to moan and groan into each other’s mouths.  Kun reaches over to squeeze Johnny’s ass, and the latter pulls away with the former’s lower lip trapped between white teeth.

 

“I want to feel you inside of me,” Johnny pants, hot breath fanning into Kun’s ear. “ _Kunnie_.”

 

Kun gets bold and bucks his hips upwards, dick teasing the crack of Johnny’s ass, eliciting a mewl from the older, and causing him to fall almost helplessly onto the younger.  Taking this as permission, Johnny props himself up, gaze unwavering as he parts his ass cheeks, slowly lowering himself onto Kun.

 

“K-Kun,” he moans airily through parted lips, “h- _haa_ —”

 

Caught off guard by the sudden warmth that envelops him, Kun involuntarily thrusts forward, causing Johnny to fall onto him again, breath hitching at the unwarranted force.

 

Quickly reaching forward to caress the small of Johnny’s back, Kun’s thick eyebrows furrow in concern. “S-sorry!”

 

Johnny manages to sit up despite the pain, already breathing like he’s been running though they’ve barely even started.  Collecting himself, he nods through closed eyes, palms warm against Kun’s bare chest.  Kun counts to fifteen before squeezing Johnny’s thigh.

 

“Hyung,” Kun worries, “are you alright?  I’m sorry.”

 

The pain was almost sobering, Johnny thinks, but it’s not enough to kill the mood altogether.

 

(If he’s being honest, it actually turned him on even more.)

 

“I’m okay,” he assures albeit seconds too late, “I’m okay, Kunnie.”

 

So then he rolls his ass back, lifting from Kun’s dick, before sinking back down, and it makes it even harder for Kun to keep himself pinned down onto the mattress.  It takes a few more testing grinds before Johnny reaches a rhythm, at which he increases his pace, bouncing on Kun’s thighs with his head tilted back, palms on Kun’s chest the only thing keeping him steady as strings of _Kun, ah, Kun,  f-fuck, yes, K-Kun_ slips from reddened lips as if a prayer.

 

A particularly loud mewl and Johnny falls forward, but this time he fails to lift himself up, heartbeat hard and quick against Kun’s.  The younger figures his prostate has been hit, causing his bones to feel like jelly, so then Kun helps by lifting Johnny’s hips and pulling him up and down his dick, bucking forward to hit Johnny at an even better angle.  Johnny sounds like he’s crying into Kun’s neck, and _K-Kun, please, Kun, h-ha, p-please_ , but he can tell they’re both at their peak, every thrust earning a delicious moan from both boys.

 

Rough hands tighten around soft skin, and nails dig into tanned flesh.  Kun’s eyes scrunch closed.

 

“H-hyung, I’m—“

 

“ _Please_.”

 

Strings of undecipherable grunts fill the room, and they come together, sated cries forming a beautiful melody before dying altogether.

 

In the distance, sirens ring out from somewhere in the city.  Slow breaths echo through the hotel room.  A light breeze comes in through the open window, a quiet _whoosh, whoosh_ past the silk curtains.

 

 

 

 

“I’ll bet a hundred won it was that Japanese girl from the restaurant.”

 

Kun thinks Ten’s saying something, but he’s far too lost in his own mind to pay attention.  He blinks once, twice, thrice, before realizing that naturally, you’re _supposed_ to respond when you’re being talked to.

 

“What?”

 

Ten looks around warily before leaning closer and cupping a hand over his mouth. “Y’know, that chick Johnny-hyung shagged way back in Osaka.  I bet it was that Japanese girl.”

 

It only now occurs to Kun that Ten must be talking about That Night, because what else could’ve happened in a span of two weeks after their naked tango between the SHEETS?  Nothing, Kun assumes, or at least assures himself in order for his (heart) pride to not crumble altogether due to the fact that a. Johnny can have virtually anyone, at any time he wants and b. Johnny possibly kissed and told—and to _Ten_ , of all fucking people—about their little sexcapade, minus the important detail that it was with _him_ and not just _some girl_.

 

“Oh I… I wouldn’t know.”

 

“ _Ya_ , don’t lie!” Ten bellows, pulling on his sleeve persistently, and causing the rest of China Line to look up upon his outburst.  Meanwhile, on the other end of the room, Johnny and Yuta are whispering among themselves, barely even batting an eyelash at what just happened.  (They’re usually hanging around the same practice room as Ten and Sicheng, respectively, thus perhaps already used to Ten’s antics.)

 “C’mon, don’t lie,” Ten continues after bowing and grinning apologetically at his band mates. “You were _roommates_ , you gotta know.  He left the restaurant later than the rest of us because he insisted he drank some more to ‘gain confidence’ or some shit.  I heard noise complaints from the neighboring rooms.  It was definitely Johnny-hyung.”

 

Kun feels his face heat up. “I wouldn’t know, r-really.”

 

“Unless…” Ten’s voice trails off with an air of mystery, eyes narrowing suspiciously at his band mate. “…it was _you_ who shagged some girl.”

 

Kun sinks into his seat, cheeks getting warmer due to the sudden accusation.  He opens his mouth to oppose, but then a voice behind them interjects, causing both of them to jump from their seats.

 

“I’ll bet fifty won it was _just_ Johnny-hyung.  Jacki—”

 

“ALRIGHT, RENJUN,” Ten shouts over the younger’s hardly appropriate input, leading him and Chenle away from the scene. “What did I tell you about butting in on adult conversations?”

 

“But I’m _nineteen_ ,” Renjun reasons, but Ten’s not having any of it.  Kun hears “also, you’re not gonna win any bets if you wager so low like that…” before they disappear through the doorway.  He sees Lucas wave at him before following suit.  Sicheng has also left with Yuta draped all over him, wiping sweat from the boy’s temple as they walk out of the training room.

 

There is silence as Kun stares at the empty doorway.  He means to stand up and leave as well, when he nearly walks into someone’s chest, causing him to fall back onto the small couch, practically losing half of his lifespan due to the shock caused by the sudden appearance.

 

It was Johnny.  Kun had almost forgotten he was in the room too.

 

“Hey uh, sorry,” Johnny scratches the back of his neck out of habit. “Didn’t mean to um, scare you or anything.”

 

“N-no, it’s—i-it’s fine,” Kun smiles sheepishly. “It’s my fault, I m-might’ve, kinda forgotten I wasn’t th-the only one—“

 

“So,” Johnny interrupts, pocketing his hands and looking anywhere but Kun. “I… heard you and Ten talking.”

 

“Ah, yeah.  Sorry about that.  Ten can be a bit, well, _loud_ —“

 

“Mhm.  I–ah, actually heard everything.”

 

 _Oh._  “I-ignore him, it was just—y-you know Ten, he says anything and everything that comes to mind.  He was just, you know, making things up.”

 

If Kun has somehow successfully worked out a lie with a straight face, his nerves still definitely show through his fidgeting hands, face gradually paling under Johnny’s scrutinizing gaze.

 

When he had, fortunately, gotten up earlier than Johnny that morning after in Osaka, he had directly gone to the hotel maintenance to fetch clean sheets himself, quietly cleaning up after the beautiful mess they had made the night before.  He had watched Johnny sleep for a little longer, every rise and fall of his bare chest serving as Kun’s momentary distraction from his thoughts.  He had ultimately decided to not tell Johnny everything—because there’s nothing he’d feel towards Kun anyway, except perhaps disgust and regret if he even knew—giving him one, last kiss on the forehead before leaving for breakfast with Jungwoo.  Perhaps Johnny had stirred soon after, rid of everything from the night before, hints of an impending hangover the only thing greeting him in his awakening.

 

It’s been two weeks since That Night.  Johnny acts civil towards Kun as usual, and it isn’t rocket science to figure out that Johnny had simply forgotten.  Though if he _was_ to get hints—which, Kun thinks, is impossible since he was too drunk to even walk a straight line—about what had happened, maybe he had forgotten soon after, because while Kun is not some Japanese girl from some restaurant, he is just as forgettable.

 

“Making things up,” Johnny repeats, almost sounding dejected.

 

“Yeah, making things up,” Kun nods as if convincing himself too. “You know Ten, right?  He’s just like that.”

 

“Right.”

 

So then Kun assumes the whole ordeal is finally over.  He sends a small smile Johnny’s way—though he thinks Johnny doesn’t see it because his bangs are covering his eyes and he’s looking at the floor—before standing up and turning to leave.  Except, he barely gains footing before he’s suddenly pushed back onto the couch, wind knocked out of his lungs as his shoulders are trapped against the cushions by vice-like hands.

 

Kun feels plump lips ghost over his neck, causing goosebumps to erupt on the sensitive skin.  He can only stare blankly at the wall in front of him, unsure how to react.

 

“Do you really believe that?”

 

Kun opens his mouth, but no words come out.  He feels weight press down onto his thighs.  He swallows.

 

“ _Kunnie_?”


End file.
